


Grey Reminiscence

by CMHolden



Series: Riftdale - Line One [2]
Category: Benjaminutes - Fandom, The Riftdale Chronicles (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 13,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMHolden/pseuds/CMHolden
Summary: Smith tells tales of Greyworld. Prequel to "One Last Miracle"





	1. Coffee

Susan hummed softly to herself, knocking on Chief’s door.

“It’s open!” Smith called from inside. Susan opened it, smiling gently.

“I’m on coffee run duty today, sooo~ I bought you your drinks.” She placed one next to Chief, handing another to Smith.

“A large! Chief usually gets me a small!”

“It’s Thursday, treat yourself~!” Susan smiled gently, taking her drink and placing the now empty drink tray on Chief’s head. “He’s really focused today, huh?”

“Yeah… It’s that Priest… he’s not sure if this murder's connected or not.”

“The what?”

“The Priest Susan, we were talking about it this morning.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Check your wrist.” Susan checked both.

“…There’s ‘Smith and I talked about the Priest’ written here…kinda looks like I washed it off though...”

“Oh darn, well at least it's kinda there?”

“Huh… I guess… we must have… Sorry, Smith.” He gave a warm smile, fiddling with a small camera.

“Smile Susan!” Susan laughed, smiling for him.

“You’re really enjoying that, huh?” Susan smiled, watching him look at it.

“Yeah~ I like that I get to see it first before I print it… That way all the pictures are good ones!” He opened his bag, pulling out a small photo album. “I’m really glad I had this in my pocket when we came here… I spent a lot of time getting these images.” He flicked through a few pages. Susan stood next to him.

“So… These are your friends from your world?”

“Yeah~! That’s Mrs Muntz… and her cat Majesty… and that’s Jeremy, he used to live down the hall, but then he moved away…” He flicked through the book, smiling softly to himself.

“Wait… what’s this one?” Susan pointed at an image. It had Smith in the front, holding the camera to take the picture. He had his usual wide smile, but he also had two eyes. Behind him stood an elegant looking woman with dark hair. She stood close to Chief, her hands placed delicately over his shoulders. On the other side of him stood another woman, shorter than the first with lighter hair. She was standing on some sort of bench, leaning over Chief’s shoulder to push his cheeks up in order to force him to smile. While he looked very annoyed, there was a small twinkle in his eye that sung of amusement. Smith smiled wide as he looked at it.

“Oh! That’s Lady Mary Fenton and Miss Betty Eakly. I remember that day, we went to the fair together for the first time~. Chief and I went with them so they could go without people realising they were together.”

“Woah, woah, woah, back up. You played escort for a lesbian couple? And I haven’t heard this story before because?”

“…Chief said I’m not meant to tell stories during work hours. I distract everyone.”

“Well, I wanna hear this story. From the beginning. I want to know how you met these two.”

“A-are you sure Susan? I don’t want to get in the way of your jo-” Susan sat on Chief’s desk, moving the coffee to the other side of the desk. Chief continued typing at his computer.

“Well…. If you're sure, I guess I can tell you.”


	2. The Fenton's Theft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smith tells the story of how he and Chief met Lady Mary Fenton.

We met Lady Fenton first. She came into our office when her mother came in to see us about some jewellery that had been stolen.

“We’re so sorry to trouble you at this late hour, sir, but you see my mother’s engagement ring was stolen only a few hours ago.” This was before her mother died, so at this point, she was just Miss Fenton. But she had one of those big hats on, with her hair all swept to one side. Her mother was very upset because that engagement ring had been passed down from her mother in law and it had a lot of value to her and Lord Fenton. Not to mention the monetary value.

Chief nodded, writing down the details. I sat to the side, keeping Majesty company at the window. Chief gathered what he needed, and we headed to the Fenton estate. The place was really big, so big that the lawn was bigger than our apartment building. Well, maybe not that big, but still pretty big. They had a lot of those trees cut into animals and a fancy fountain in the garden. We were lead into the crime scene. It looked like someone broke in the window.

“Looks like they broke through the window,” I said. Chief shook his head.

“No, there’s no glass on the floor. That means they broke OUT of the window.” I began questioning the witnesses while he went over to brood by the window.

“Some sick son of a bitch broke into the Fenton estate. Whoever it was wasn’t too bright. They smashed the window with the fire poker to make it look like someone broke in. But if they broke the window to get in, the glass would have been inside. Not only that, but the noise would have been heard in the servant’s ward. Why would they even break in through the window in the parlour, knowing there was still another flight of stairs to get to the jewels? They would have been better to break in on the other side, and reduce the chances they’d be heard.”

\---

Susan burst out laughing.

“Oh Smith…. I love your Chief impersonation.” She giggled to herself, trying to calm herself down, signalling for Smith to continue.

\---

Well anyway, Chief expected it to be an inside job. So of course, he double and triple checked their alibis and what they said they had seen. Chief had originally suspected the younger Fenton sister’s governess, but she was talking to Mary when the window smashed. So we went back to the office.

“Do you have any idea how much that ring’s worth, Smith?” He asked me.

“I’d assume it’s worth a lot to Lord Fenton. It was his mothers.”

“People don’t steal things for sentimental value Smith. If they wanted to blackmail, they’d take one of his girls. People steal for monetary gain.”  
“…Is it worth a lot then, Chief?”

“More money that most people in this building make in a year…”

“Gosh.”

“…I think it’s safe to say it’ll be hard to get it back. They have two options… Sell it right away or hold onto it… Considering the panicked window shattering, I’d say they’ve hidden it. Now they know we’re onto them, they’ll likely keep it hidden if they haven’t already gotten rid of it.”

“So what next, Chief?”

“First thing after your errands tomorrow morning, you’re going to go down to docks. Wear a disguise and take a look around. No jewellers would accept it in town, they’d know it was stolen just by looking at it. I’m going back to cross-check the staff again. For now, get a good night sleep.”

So, I went back to my apartment. It was just next door to the office. The Chief lived upstairs from it. The next morning, I did as Chief said. I found that the newspapers had already started talking about the break-in. That really made Chief annoyed. A panicked criminal was easy to catch, but we weren’t sure if they still had the ring. If someone else had it, they would likely try to get out of the area as fast as possible. I didn’t find anything at the docks, except a good deal on fish. I got some for Mrs Muntz, she really liked fish. Anyway, Chief started the crime board by the time I got back. He had three suspects. The Governess, the Maid of the House, or the Footman. I asked him why the Governess, she had the most plausible alibi. He added another picture to the wall. Mary Fenton had become a suspect. I was pretty shocked, but he never explained it to me.

We spent the next three weeks observing the house. One night, we went into town to get some dinner, and when we got back, more things had been stolen. This time they had left a note. They said that the most important jewel would be taken in three weeks.

“Why three weeks? They already took most of the jewels, why leave the most important?” Mary had asked. Chief didn’t have an answer.

“Is anything important happening in three weeks?” I asked

“The debutante ball. But it makes no sense to have anything stolen then, the place will be crawling with people,” responded Lord Fenton

“On the contrary, it’s the best time,” Chief responded, turning back from brooding into the fireplace, “No one will notice a stranger sneaking in if he’s dressed right. What jewels haven’t been taken?”

“Only my daughter’s pearls, and a few little trinkets. Hardly worth anything, they took everything that had any value…” Lady Fenton responded. Chief went back to staring into the fireplace.

“Then what do they mean?”


	3. The Fenton's Theft, pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation from the previous chapter

Susan sat on the edge of the desk, eyes wide. Smith smiled at her, taking in the dramatic pause as he sipped his drink. Rachel stood at the door.

“So… what was it? The jewel?” she asked.

“Shhh! He’s getting to it!” Susan waved her over, making room so she could lean against the table. Smith smiled to himself, sighing as he continued.

\---

It was only three days until the debutante ball. Chief was getting really angry. Every lead we had lead to a dead end. None of the jewels were of any value, sentimental or otherwise, to anyone. On top of that, the thief had left two more notes. One saying Chief should stop sniffing around, and one saying that once the jewel was stolen, it would be destroyed.

“What point does destroying the jewel have?” I had asked Chief as he took the letter off the forensics board again to look at it.

“… No idea… Destroying it would be more of a threat if it were valuable,” he mumbled back as he leaned against the wall. There was a knock at the door. I got up to answer it. It was Mary. She looked very serious, but she wore a smile. Chief insists it was cold, but I think it was lovely. Anyway, she had bought us something to eat. It was really good Chinese food. I liked the butter chicken and rice. It had the right level of marinade to chicken, and there wasn’t too much ri-

\---

“Smith, we don’t really care about the chicken,” interrupted Rachel.

“Ok, jeez… anyway,”

\---

We had dinner with her and asked her questions about the case. In all fairness, she ended up asking more questions than we did. Chief didn’t trust her for some reason. She seemed really friendly to me.

“We figured out potential entry points to the dressing room… and the easiest way for them to get out, but we can’t figure out which jewel they want,” I explained.

“What difference does it make? They’re all kept together. If someone tries to take any of them, you can catch them.”

“It’s the puzzle…”

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” Chief gave her a glare that would make hell freeze over.

“If they wanted any of the jewellery, they would have been better off to take it when they took the rest. None of what’s left is worth the effort.”

“And?” Mary was not impressed. She had her hat pulled down, so you couldn’t see most of her face, except her lips curved up into a gentle smile.

“…I don’t think that the jewel is a literal gemstone. I think it’s something else.”

“And what do you think it is?”

“Perhaps something that your parents have as blackmail against someo-” Mary quickly removed her glove and slapped Chief across the face.

“How _dare_ you?” she spat at him, “how dare you accuse my father o-”

“I never said your father, mam.” It was weird to see Chief smile after being hit, but he was onto something. She looked shocked before composing herself and walking back to her purse. I don’t really remember much of what happened next. I remember feeling a pain in my neck and Chief shouting. Next thing I knew I was waking up on the floor. Chief was gently shaking me.

“Smith, wake up. Smith?” I remember feeling really dizzy for a good hour. Chief filled me in, but my memory was still a little fuzzy. Mary had injected me with some sort of tranquiliser. Apparently, after injecting me, she tried to inject Chief. Luckily, he was too fast for her. She ended up with the injection instead. Chief had cuffed her to his office chair while waiting for me to wake up. She woke up, and boy was she mad. Chief began interrogating her while I finished having my dinner.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” Chief asked, sitting across from her.

“…You insulted my family.”

“You assumed I was talking about your father. That tells me one of two things. He either definitely has some dirt on someone, or,” he paused to sip from his flask, “You know something about what we’re working on, and you haven’t told us.” Mary turned up her nose. I decided to step in.

“Miss Fenton… we only want to help your family. If you can tell us anything that would help…”

“I have nothing to stay. Now let me go. You can’t hold me if I’m not under arrest.”

“You assaulted two police officers. I think that’s reason enough to arrest you,” Chief responded, getting himself a glass of whisky. Miss Fenton pouted, turning her nose away.

“My sister will be very upset to find out I won’t be at her dress fitting.” I froze.

“…Your sister’s a debutante?” I asked. Chief gave me a strange look.

“Of course. It would be quite ridiculous to host the event if we had no one to prese-”

“What’s her name?”

“Smith, this isn’t the time to make fri-”

“Please, Chief. Miss Fenton, what’s your sister’s name?”

“…. Beryl. Beryl Fenton.”

“Are you happy Smith? I don’t know what’s gotten int-”

“Beryl’s a type of gem Chief.”

“What?”

“Beryl. It’s the overarching name for gems like emeralds and aquamarine.”

“That means…”

“Chief, I think we found our jewel.”

 


	4. The Fenton's Theft pt.3

A few officers had gathered around the door to listen, Rachel filling them in as Smith continued.

\---

Mary gasped.

“You mean someone is intending to… to kidnap my sister?”

“And destroy her,” responded Chief, bluntly, “I highly suggest you tell us whatever you know.” She looked shocked, before huffing and looking away.

“Miss Fenton,” I said, kneeling in front of her, “We just want to protect her. Please… We need all the help we can get.”  She sniffed, flicking her hair out of her face.

“She’s my baby sister… she had nothing… she wasn’t even born…” I gently held her hand as she explained.

“My father was part of… something… when I was younger.”

“What kind of something?” Chief asked, leaning against the table.

“… I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. We moved here to get away from it.  I was only seven at the time. All I know is we had to leave quickly… My mother told me that I was never allowed to ask about it.”

Chief paced the room, taking a cigarette out.

“We need to get into that ball… Provide cover for your sister.”

\---

“Aren’t those things super hard to get into?” asked one of the officers, promptly being shooshed by the rest of the audience.

“It would have been impossible for Chief and I to get in under normal circumstances. But most people are more lenient when their daughter’s life is in danger.”

\---

Lord Fenton was not one of these people.

“You want me to let two strange men into an evening of excellence? I will make myself a laughing stock!”

“Father, please. Beryl’s life is being threatened!”

“We will have plenty of security on the night. If the jewels are safe, we do not need to worry the officers anymore.” I had never seen Chief so angry before then.

“You care more about worthless gems than you do about your own flesh and blood?!” he shouted, “You daughter’s life is threatened, and you care more about your appearances than about her safety? What kind of father are you?!”

“I can see you have no qualms with losing your reputation _sir_ , we’ve all read the rumours about you.”

\---

“What rumours?” asked Rachel.

“I don’t know. I never asked.”

“Boo!” she said, Susan shushing her.

\---

“Sir, it is very likely that the jewels were stolen by the same person. Please, if you won’t allow us to protect your daughter, withdraw her from the ball,” I begged.

“And have no one to present? I shan’t hear of it!” Lord Fenton snapped. Beryl came down the stairs, huffing.

“Father, my escort can’t dance!”

“Not now pet, Daddy’s busy.”

“I’m not going to go with him! He’ll embarrass me! I won’t, I won’t do it!” Lord Fenton sighed.

“Sweetheart, we’re not going to find another escort for you in time for the ball. You’ll have to tolerate him.”

“Sir, if I may,” I said, “I’ve been a young escort before.” Chief looked at me, confused.

“You?!” questioned Lord Fenton.

“Yes sir, I was the young escort for my sister when she had her debutante ball.”

\---

“You have a sister?” Susan asked, stacking books on Chief’s head.

“Yep~ she’s four years my junior,” Smith responded. He pulled out his photo album, flicking through. He showed the picture to Susan. The picture was a very formal wedding portrait. Smith’s curls had been tamed into a ponytail. He looked very awkward, wearing a suit and standing very sternly. His hand was held behind his back, the other rested on a woman’s shoulder. Her hair had been tied up in an elaborate bun, decorated with a flowery veil. Her dress was mostly plain, but she had a lace overlay over the skirt. Next to her, the picture had been ripped, cutting out what would have been the groom.

“What happened to the rest of the picture?” Susan asked, passing it on. Smith waved his hand dismissively.

“Not important. Anyway…”

\---

“Who is your sister?” asked Lord Fenton.

“Amelia Smith, sir. I believe she was at the same ball as your niece. It was hosted by my nan at the Holberry estate.”

“You’re related to Margret Holberry?”

“Yes sir, she’s my maternal grandmother.” Lord Fenton sighed. My nan wasn’t the highest class, but she was still a part of high society.

“Fine. I will allow him to escort my daughter.”

“But can he _dance_ father?”

“I’m sure he can show you~” Chief said, smirking. I ended up as red as a tomato, but I still offered my hand to Beryl. We did a waltz and it was pretty good I guess. It made Beryl happy enough. I had to get a new suit, so Mary took me shopping. It was really uncomfortable, but it looked proper so I had to wear it.

\---

“Do you have a picture of it?” asked Rachel, looking through the pictures.

“Nope~ you’ll have to imagine it~.”

\---

The night of the ball was cold, but otherwise clear. We were sure the perp would strike as she was being presented, but she went off the stage without a hitch. I don’t remember much of the night, but I remember the guns going off while we were dancing.


	5. The Fenton's Theft pt.4

Chief shouted at me to get Beryl to safety. I grabbed her and lead her out of the ball room. The gun fire followed us. We took cover in the lower drawing room.

“Can’t you shoot them or something?!”

“I’m not licenced to carry.”

“Why not?!”

“Chief said I’d get my eye taken out if he let me have one.” I opened the window and climbed out, before holding my arms out to help her out the window.

“…I don’t want to get my dress dirty.”

“Grass is much easier to get out than blood. Quickly!” She jumped out, and I lead her to the orchard down behind the house. I figured the trees would provide more cover, but it turns out it was one of those orchards designed to look pretty over grow fruit. The gun fire followed us, but it was hard to tell where it was coming from. We hid down the hill behind one of the biggest trees.

“I’m scared…” she whimpered.

“Shh…” I hushed, holding her close and looking for the shooters.

There was a click behind me. A tall man wearing a mask pointed the gun at us. I pulled Beryl behind me, against the tree.

“Who are you?”

“Give me the girl.”

“Why?”

“Justice.”

“How does that work?” I pulled her closer, trying to see what type of gun he had. If it was something that would go through me, I would want to get her out of the way first.

“Give her.”

“Why don’t we just lower our weapons and talk it out?”

“We’re past the point of talking. Now is the time for action.”

“Okay, so what took it past talking it ou-” The gun fired at our feet, before being raised back up.

“Don’t want to talk, got it. Maybe, just… uh…. Put it down anyway?” The man pulled back the hammer.

The second fire sounded.


	6. The Fenton's Theft pt.5

Chief stood behind the masked man, gun smoking. The man fell to the ground, holding his shoulder. He re-aimed at Chief.

“Don’t even think about it.” Mary Fenton stood behind us, a small pistol drawn. Chief moved to handcuff the man.

\---

“…Then what happened?” someone asked.

“…I don’t remember.”

“You were stabbed,” muttered Chief.

\---

The perp sprung, drawing his pocket knife. Beryl had moved to hug her sister. You shoved them both out of the way but ended up in line of the blade. Luckily it didn’t cut too deep, but you did go into shock quick. You were out before you hit the floor.

\---

Chief faded back into his concentration. Susan chuckled, going back to balancing things on his head.

“Huh… That’s probably why I have a scar along my ribcage…”

“So why did they want her anyway?”

“Oh! Right, well…”

\---

Lord Fenton recognised the man immediately. Apparently, he had some illegal gambling habits that he had landed himself in hot water for. He had rigged several card games in his favour, and the men he gambled with caught on. When confronted, Lord Fenton had fled. The masked man’s son pursued him. There was a fight at their last estate in England, where the son had fallen off the balcony. It was written off as an accident, but Lord Fenton moved to America to try and get rid of them. But by insisting in remaining in society, Lord Fenton made it easy for them to find him again. The jewels were already gone, except the engagement ring. It was too distinctive to sell, so Lady Fenton got it back. The man in the mask was given 5 years.

\---

“So that’s how you met Lady Mary. What about Betty?” asked Susan.

“What’s going on in here?” boomed the sergeant’s voice, “Why is my entire police force in this room? It seems like every time I look up, Officer Chief is the only one working.”

“Smith’s telling us stories from Greyworld.”

“Oh.” He nodded, pulling up a chair, “Mathers, have you been keeping a record?”

“Yes sir.”

“I would like to review it. Continue Smith.”


	7. B. Eakly

****

Betty’s story is much shorter. We met her while working on a case. The mayor had died, and we had to find out if it was by foul play. Mary was keeping us company. She was laid across Chief’s desk, which is something she did quite a bit, even when I offered her the couch. This annoyed him because it meant he couldn’t get his papers. We had stopped for breakfast after we had landed ourselves at several dead ends. Chief had the paper.

“Fuck,” he cursed, throwing the paper down, “that Eakly guy’s been reporting the case again.”

“At least he’s been asking people to bring information forward,” I said, pouring the coffee.

“People coming forward means jack shit when the perp knows how close we are to them… even if this is bullshit.”

Chief didn’t like journalists reporting on a case until after they were solved. Eakly tended to be two steps ahead of us, which Chief said meant that the criminal was likely four steps ahead, or on a completely different path.

“It’s bad enough that the cause of death is unclear… the fact we’ve got people losing their shit over a potential murderer that we’re not even sure exists is just causing panic that we don’t need.” Mary sighed, rolling off the desk. She took her and Chief’s coffee, leaning back on the desk. I sighed.

“Maybe we could just ask him to… stop for a while?”

“… Yeah, like that’s going to work. They’ll get all up in arms that we’re trying to “silence the presses” or whatever.” Although he said it more like “whatevwah,” because we used to have accents before we moved here. Anyway, after about a week of struggling with the case, Chief took my idea, and we went to the local printing press to talk to him.

\---

Chief turned his head, sending what Susan had stacked on his head crashing to the floor. Several officers jumped, waiting to see if he would realise they had filled his office. He didn’t react, but instead continued working at a slow pace. The other officers sighed, turning back to listen to Smith again.

\---

When we arrived, we were told that we couldn’t see Eakly, but we were free to make an appointment to see him at a later date. They knew that Chief couldn’t force his way in without a warrant or possible cause, so we were turned onto the street.

“Chief, how much do you trust me?” asked Mary.

“About as far as I can throw you,” Chief responded. She led us down an alleyway.

“I need you to trust me enough to get me to that balcony.” She pointed it out.

“…Why that one?”

“Eakly’s on an appointment only basis, meaning that he’s somewhere that he can be called. He’s pretty high up on the chain, so he’s likely in a shared office, rather than the ground floor. This window leads to the room he’s most likely in.”

“How do you know what that window leads to?” Chief asked.

“I’ve climbed out of it~” She responded with a wink. Chief rolled his eyes, making protests about how we shouldn’t be doing that, but I ended up giving Mary the leg up. It made more sense because Chief has a bad back and I’m taller. Then I gave Chief a lift, because, again, he is much shorter than me. I jumped up afterwards.

\---

“Be honest, how graceful was your landing?”

“As graceful as a dead goose landing a plane. I fell on my face.”

\---

Mary got the door open and we snuck in. The desk was labelled as B Eakly, so Chief leaned on it and waited.

“Can I help you?” came a small voice. A young woman stood with an armful of files. She had short, pale hair and wore a cloche with a matching skirt and suit.

“We’re waiting for Eakly,” Chief stated.

“Speaking.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re speaking to her. How can I help you?”

“No…no, B Eakly… The journalist.”

“B… Betty. Betty Eakly. And I don’t have time to waste. Who are you and how can I help you?”

“…I’m the Chief of pol-“

“Oh, Richie warned me about you. You don’t want me to report anything about the mayor, because it messes with your flow. Right, sorry, can’t help you.”

\---

Smith broke out into giggles.

“Oh god, Chief’s _face_. He was so shocked!” he snickered softly to himself. Susan chucked softly.

\---

“You can’t talk to me like that!”

“You can’t be in here without a warrant, probable cause or without someone letting you in. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Hold on there, I need to speak to you,” Chief said, grabbing her arm.

“You will let go of me right now, or else.”

“Threatening me? You’re five-foot noth-” Chief didn’t get to finish his sentence before she kicked him between the legs, flipped him to the floor and used his handcuffs to stick him to the table. Mary gave a gentle clap.

“Don’t you think you’re getting anything from me.”

“Oh, on the contrary dear, I am merely applauding your spectacular takedown.”

“… Thank you~”

At this point, I was more concerned about Chief. He was obviously in a lot of pain. I had to run back to the office to grab the keys. By the time I got back, Chief was whimpering much less. I got him unchained and spent the next ten minutes gently rubbing his back until he could breathe properly again. In the meantime, Mary and Betty talked together.

“Alright, Chief. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll keep writing down to a minimum if you give me the exclusive inside scoop. Deal?” She held her hand to Chief. Chief shook it.

“Lady, I would not want to meet you in a dark alleyway.”

“That makes two of us. But I seriously do have to get back to work, I have a deadline to meet.”


	8. Chief

“So, that’s how you met Betty? She kicked Chief in the nuts and then you were friends?” asked an officer

“Well, not quite. Chief still didn’t trust her, but she was good at getting us information for other cases.”

“Was the mayor murdered?” asked Susan.

“It was ruled as natural causes. He likely died of a heart attack.”

“So how’d Betty and Mary get together?”

“I’m not really sure… Chief told me about it when they asked us to go to the fair with them.”

“Wait, _Chief_ got them together?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“What’s going on?” Chief asked. The things that had been piled on his head fell to the floor with a clatter. Chief jumped, looking around confused. Many of the officers cleared out, Smith left with his empty hot chocolate and Susan quickly putting the things back where they were.

“…Hey Chief… how’s it going?”

“God damn it Smith, what were you doing?”

“Nothing!~”

“Ugh… I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Chief shuffled off. Susan giggled.

“Oh dear…”

“I told you I shouldn’t tell stories while at work,” Smith sighed as he picked up his photo album. He looked at the photo of his sister with a small smile.

“Do you miss her?”

“Immensely.” His voice was soft and tired. He flipped back to the page with them at the fair.

“Y’know… you kinda look like Mary… If you put your hair all to one side.” Susan raised her eyebrows, taking her hair out of her pony tail, moving it all to one side. She used her phone as a mirror, checking.

“Huh…. Neat.”

 


	9. The Bar

Susan sighed, taking her sister’s bag. She sat at the bar, resting her chin on her hand.

“Hello,” said the familiar deep voice. Susan looked up to see Chief, swirling a bottle with the label pulled off. “It’s… Susan, right?”

“Oh! Yeah, it is. Hey~ What’s up?” Susan responded, sitting up straight.

“… Not a great deal. Just… taking a break.”

“… Oh… Where’s Smith?”

“In the car. Likely on the radio.”

“Right…” Susan chuckled softly, looking at him again. He was looking at her, as if something about her confused him. “Is… something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” mutter Chief with a shrug, “You just look different… just… trying to figure it out… it’s… the fact your hair’s down… and you’re not wearing your glasses.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, giving an awkward laugh, “It’s my sister’s 21st… so I’m driving her and her friends around for the night.” The bar tender came over. She showed her wristband, getting a free soda. Chief shrugged, looking back at his bottle.

“…Which one’s your sister?” he asked. Susan pointed out a young woman with dark skin and bright blue hair.

“That’s her.”

“… You come from a…. uh…. damn, hold on… mixed race family?”

“Yeah~ not common in Greyland?”

“Gre-? Uh… no… not really common where I’m from.” He looked back down at his bottle.

“…Not to be nosey or anything… but… I don’t think you’re meant to drink on the job.”

“I know you won’t say anything,” muttered Chief, taking a sip. Susan raised her eyebrow with a smile.

“And why’s that?”

“You called in sick today. How would you know I was drinking when you’re sick in bed?” He looked at her with an intense gaze. He looked both bored and amused, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“…Touché.” She sipped her soda, keeping an eye on her sister. Chief went back to sipping with a sigh, swirling the bottle softly.

“…Do you have any stories?” Susan asked quietly. Chief looked at her, confused.

“Stories?”

“Smith sometimes tells me about how you guys lived in Greyworld. Do you have any stories?”

“…Smith shouldn’t be telling stories on duty.”

“And you shouldn’t be drinking. But here we are.”

“…Here we are,” he sighed, “I’m not the story teller. I just correct Smith when he lets the story get in the way of the facts.”

“… I’m… I’m really dying to hear part of one of his stories… He said he doesn’t know that part because you were there but he wasn’t…”

“Which one?”

“The one he was telling yesterday… about how Mary Fenton and Betty Eakly got together.”

Chief sighed, “I guess… I can tell you that. Just know that I’m not the story teller that Smith is.” Susan nodded, resting her chin on her hand, giving Chief her almost undivided attention. Chief sighed, swirling his bottle once more.


	10. Anticlimatic

Miss Fenton came into my office one day. She seemed distressed. I asked her what was wrong. She laid herself across my desk. Again.

“I can’t tell you Chief… It’s not lawful.”

“Well, now I definitely want to know.”

“What’ll you do if I don’t tell you? Handcuff me?”

“I will have probable cause.”

“… You know I don’t always keep to… the opposite sex…”

“You’re gay for Betty.”

“Wait, what?”

“You’re gay for her and you don’t know how to tell her, right?”

“…W-well… yes but… how…?”

“If you made anymore lovey-dovey eyes at her she’d be pregnant. Take her to the fair, she’d like that.”

“But what if she doesn’t like me?”

“She does.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she told me yesterday. Go ask her out.”

“Oh, I simply couldn’t! My father’s reputation is at stake!”

“If she agrees to go with you, Smith and I will come as well.”

\---

“…That’s it?” asked Susan.

“I told you, Smith’s the storyteller.”

“I’m just surprised it was that simple.”

“If it wasn’t, I would have kept out of it,” he mumbled, ordering a second drink. Susan fiddled with her fingers, checking on her sister.

“… Can you tell me another story?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… Smith told me most of that one… why don’t you tell me one from the start?”

“…Why would I want to?”

“…I don’t know…. It’s silly… I’m sorry…” she looked into her glass. She heard Chief sigh.

“… How about the story of how Smith and I met?”

“I thought you met at work?”

“Well, technically we were properly introduced then. But we did meet once before.” Susan gave him more attention, smiling gently.


	11. How Chief Almost Died

It was my first proper case. I usually got stuck with filing reports and misdemeanours. I was shadowing under Officer Brigs. He was a pretty tough guy, knew his way around. We were looking into a missing girl. Taken from her family in the middle of the night. There was a ransom note, signed by a known gang member in the area. Because it was my first case, I wasn’t licenced to carry. I ended up keeping notes more than anything, but Brigs asked for my input as well. A letter came in demanding the cash, or the girl would die. I suggested we just gave them the money in marked bills, traced them later. Brigs didn’t think it was a good idea. They’d shuffle it through, and it would take too much effort to trace. The parents just wanted their kid back. They agreed to pay the ransom, so we went to assist the transfer. Brigs was disguised as their driver, and I dressed in their son’s clothes.

The girl was bought out, gun to her head. The money was given to them, they checked it. The girl was dropped on the ground and they booked it. The family cleared the area and Brigs began the chase. We got down to the docks, they disappeared. Brigs got out of the car to look for them. He told me to wait in the car. I didn’t listen. He left his gun behind. I figured he’d need it. I followed behind. That was a mistake.

I’m not sure if it happened here or not, but we had a ban on alcohol that wasn’t medicine for a while. One guy, only known as Boss, had a whole underground trade. It was known he paid off cops who found him, but no one ever knew who was on his payroll and who wasn’t.

Brigs was.

He took the case to convince the family to pay up. The chase was to cover his real reason for going down to the docks. He wanted to pick up his cut. He didn’t take his gun because he knew he wouldn’t need it. He told me to stay in the car because he knew how much I hated the Boss and his kind. He didn’t want me to get hurt. He just wanted the pay day.

The low-life he organised with raised his gun first. I panicked and shot him. It went through his stomach. Brigs took his gun and told me to drop mine. He said I could join him. Just accept a little extra cash. All I had to do was turn around, walk back out. I didn’t listen. I was angry. I missed my second shot, but he didn’t miss me. He left me to die in the alleyway.

\---

“…S-so he shot you for being a good police officer?” Susan asked, eyes wide and jaw dropped.

“…Happened more often than not,” he muttered.

\---

I was found by a fisherman. He took me to a hospital. They called the chief for me. I told him everything. Brigs was arrested and trialled. He shot himself before they reached a verdict. I spent nearly 3 weeks in the hospital. I had a fever. The doctors stopped telling me what was happening. The nurses stopped giving me anything to eat or drink. I overheard the doctor talking to the chief.

“If he makes it through the night, he’ll live.”

“That’s a shame. He would have made a good officer,” the chief said back. The door was shut and I was left alone for hours. I was tired. I didn’t want to sleep. I knew any breath could be my last, but I wasn’t ready to die. I was barely Smith’s age now. I… I was scared. That’s when he came in.

A small, scrawny kid. His hospital gown was too big for him, as was his head. When I came in, I thought he was 2, at most. He bought in a little lamb toy and a blanket.

“Hey, Mister,” he said, sitting in the chair next to my bed. He gave me a wide smile. His front teeth were missing. His hair… desperately needed cutting. I gave him a nod. He kicked his legs.

“I’m John. Johnathan Smith. Who are you?” he asked. I looked at him.

“You probably shouldn’t be in here kid. I’m a dead man walking.”

“That’s not true! You haven’t walked all week!” At first, I thought he was being a smart-ass. Something in his eyes told me he was being serious. “And besides, you’re not dead, you’re still breathing and talking!”

“What are you doing here, kid?”

“You don’t have many visitors.”

“…Thanks for pointing that out.”

“I figured you might feel better with some company,” he said as he leaned his head to one side. I sighed, letting my eyes close.

“So, what are you in for?”

“I got shot.”

“Oh. My dad died after being shot. But at least that won’t happen to you! I heard Mister Doctor say you were gonna live if you survive tonight! Isn’t that great? You just gotta make it through tonight, and then you’ll get better!”

“That’s not wha-” I couldn’t tell him the truth. He gave me another smile. I sighed and gave him one back.

“Where were you shot? Can I see?” I shrugged, pulling up my shirt to show the wound.

“Ew, it’s dirty. I’ll clean it!” he jumped off the chair and ran off. He came back with clean bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He pulled over a little stool to stand on so he could reach me. He took the old bandages off and cleaned the wound properly. He gently patted my hand as I hissed through the pain. He re-bandaged it and jumped back down, disappearing to put everything back. When he came back again, I just wanted to sleep. He smiled. He kept smiling. I coughed, my mouth was dry. He just… went and got me a drink. No questions asked. He helped me drink it. I knew him for all of all of twenty minutes, and already this kid had done everything in his power to make me feel better. He sat back in his seat.

“…So what are you in for?”

“I got sick again,” he shrugged, “I get sick all the time, so I’m used to it. But Ma can’t look after me at home because she just had a baby, and if the baby gets sick she’ll get really sick. So I gotta stay here.”

“…Tell me about them. Your family,” I said. Listening him talk kept me awake. He spoke for hours. Even though he was falling asleep himself, he tried to keep himself awake for me. It was early morning when the doctor came in. Smith was trying not to nod off. He was surprised I was still breathing, let alone awake. Smith was taken back to his bed. It took another two weeks, but I made a full recovery.

\---

“Wow,” said Susan, looking down into her drink, “Even as a kid, Smith was an angel.”

“…He was so small… I’m surprised how much he shot up. Now he’s taller than me.”

Susan smiled, checking over her shoulder for her sister again.

“He’s like a son to me.” His voice was soft, almost as if he didn’t mean for her to hear.

“… Can I ask a question?”

“…Sure.”

“Why does Smith think it’s illegal for officers to marry?”

Chief exhaled quickly out of his nose, “I said it was to get him to stop asking questions. He kept asking why I wasn’t married…”

“…And saying you haven’t met the right person is too hard because…?”

“… He’d try and set me up… besides… I…” He stopped, looking into his bottle. His face looked sad, troubled even.

“Besides?”

“…I was married.”


	12. Family Life

Her name was Eloise. We met at a police formal. Her brother was my partner after the Brigs incident. She spent most of the night following me around, I just thought it was because a lot of the officers were talking with each other and no one was really paying any attention to her. I thought she was absolutely stunning, I couldn’t think of a single reason she’d be interested in me. Her brother told me she was trying to get me to flirt with her. I sent her flowers and a letter the next day, and we were married by the next June. We got a little apartment together. It wasn’t the best. It was small and the walls were thin enough to hear the people two doors down. There was a draft and the shower leaked. Within two weeks she made that dump feel like a home. It was warmer by her presence. She decorated to make it feel bigger and she fixed the shower. By the third week, we were in domestic bliss.

Four months into the marriage, she started getting sick. She was pregnant. We were so excited. My office became a nursery. She knitted little teddies and clothes. I spent every moment off duty by her side for those 9 months. July 11th, we had a beautiful baby girl. She was born healthy and strong, nearly 7 pounds.

Eloise got worse. She didn’t stop bleeding. At first, we thought it was the normal bleeding, we were reassured it was supposed to be heavy. She collapsed getting up in the night. I took her back to the hospital. There had been damage while giving birth. She had already lost a lot of blood. She got an infection in the wound, and she got worse. She was gone before our daughter was a month old.

I raised her as best I could. I was working a lot, so I hired a nanny to look after her during the day. I had to cut corners in other means. Sometimes I’d just have pasta for days on end because it was cheap. Other times I’d just have whatever was in the break room. I just wanted her to have the best care I could give her. I wasn’t going to do what my father did.

\---

“What did your father do?”

“He abandoned me. My mother got sick. They induced her labour to save me. She died before I was even born. My father decided I was likely going to die anyway. He left the hospital. My parents… the ones who took me in, they lost their daughter earlier that day. They took me in and raised me as their own. Still, they never hid the fact I was adopted.”

“Oh, Chief,” Susan sighed. Chief shrugged.

\---

I couldn’t afford a wet nurse as well as a nanny. I bought formula to feed her. But as I wasn’t being paid much, I had to get the cheapest available. For the first four months, there were no problems. She was growing healthily, she had no issues. Then she started getting sick. I thought it was the season. Maybe the draft. She had a cough, but that was it. I was feeding her one night, everything seemed fine. She started coughing again. I sat her up to help her breathe. She sounded raspy. I felt her cough something wet on my neck. It was ruby red blood. I rushed her to the hospital. She had ingested cyanide. There was nothing they could do for her. I held her in her final moments, just so the last face she saw wouldn’t be a stranger’s.

\---

“Oh my god… How’d she eat cyanide?”

“…The nanny. I kept refusing to bend to The Boss and do what he wanted. She was one of his members. She mixed it in with the formula during the day. I was poisoning my own daughter every time I gave her a bottle.”

“Oh my god…”

“Worst part was people thought I did it.” Susan looked at him. His face was dark and angry. “They thought I killed my own daughter. Some people did that. They’d put poison in their baby’s food and collect the life insurance check. The only reason I wasn’t arrested for it was that I never had life insurance for her.”

Susan looked into her drink, speechless.

“…Sorry… I shouldn’t have said that…” Chief muttered. He got a glass of water for himself, sipping at it.

“…Y-you haven’t told Smith about this?”

“…No…. I honestly have no idea why I told you.”

“I-it’s ok! Maybe you just needed to get it off your chest?”

“…I guess. Sorry to bring down your evening.”

“Don’t worry about it! Really!” She said, checking on her sister again. Damn it, look away from her for ten minutes and she had her tongue down a stranger’s throat.

“Oh geez… I gotta get her out of there before she ends up going home with him.”

“Have a good evening Susan…”

“You too.”

“Oh, and… Susan?”

“Yeah?”

“…Can we pretend this conversation didn’t happen?”

“What conversation?” she gave a smile, going to remove her sister from the premises. Chief gave a small smile, sipping his water.


	13. Tears

Smith was quiet. Much quieter than usual. He sat in Chief’s office, quietly fiddling with his album. Susan watched with a frown. Chief had gotten him a hot chocolate, which he sipped on quietly. She grabbed Chief’s arm as he went by to the photocopier.

“Hey… Is Smith ok? He doesn’t seem like himself today.”

“I don’t know,” Chief sighed. Some officers stared at little Susan holding the intimidating Chief’s arm. “I’ve seen him like this before. Sometimes it just passes… Other times…. Not so much. Do you mind keeping an eye on him? I have to go fight the copy machine.”

Susan gave a gentle smile and Chief headed off. Rachel came up behind her.

“What was that about?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just spoke to the 5’4 walking storm cloud. Scratch that, you grabbed his _arm_.”

“I wanted to ask him about Smith. You said it yourself, he seemed off today.”

“Yeah, but I’m not going to go toe to toe with a little ball of rage.”

“He’s harmless.”

“How do you know that?” Rachel asked, looking suspicious. Whoops, shit. Don’t allude to any non-existent conversations, Susan.

“…Do you think Smith would hang out with someone who was dangerous?”

“…I suppose not.”

“I’m going to talk to him.” Susan took the opportunity to evacuate the office gossip, going to lean as casually as possible on the door frame.

“Hey, Smith~,”

“Oh, Susan!” His face instantly lit up. It looked wrong. As if seeing a CG face. Something screamed that it wasn’t right. “How are you today?”

“I’m pretty good~ I got to see my sister through her first legal hangover before coming to work.”

“Oh… nice~,” Smith smiled, looking back at his photo book. Hm, not even going to question the legality of her previous hangovers? Susan sat next to Smith. He was looking at the picture of his sister.

“…Were you close?”

“Incredibly. I gave her away… our grandfather was furious he wasn’t asked.”

“…Why is the picture ripped?”

“…He hurt her. I wish they never met.”

“O-oh…” Susan put his hand on Smith’s back. His breathing was sharp and fast. Small squeaks came from his throat. “Smith…?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I-I’m fine.” Smith closed the book and held it close. Chief came back in.

“Smith?”

“I’m fine.” Chief nodded, sitting down and looking at the computer. He passed Smith’s phone to him.

“Look at this me-me, Smith,” he said. It was a picture of an egg with a cell phone and an ant.

“Egg…phone…bug?” he looked at it, confused.

“…I figured you’d understand it better than me.”

“I don’t get it,” Smith said. Chief watched him, putting his chair straight to the ground.

“Smith. Think about it specifically.” Smith looked more and more confused. He began gasping, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I-I don’t get it…”

“It’s alright Smith…”

“I-I don’t get it Chief… I don’t get it… I don’t…” he broke off into sobs. Chief took the phone off of him, looking him in the face.

“Smith… do you need a break.”

“No, I’m fine…”

“You’re not fine, Smith.

“I-I’m fine… I’m…I’m fine.” He became more agitated. Chief held his shoulders.

“S-should I go?” asked Susan.

“No! I-I’m sorry!” shouted Smith. He clung to Susan’s arm. “I’m fine, I’m sorry… I’m fine… It’s ok…”

Other officers began looking in. Chief pried Susan’s arm free.

“Close the door for me,” he stated. Susan did as she was told, going to tell the commissioner. By the time they came back, Chief held Smith close to his chest, trying to get him to breathe.

“Smith?” he asked, “I think you should go home for the day.”

“No! I’m fine! I promise!”

“Chief… Take the day off and make sure he stays home.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“No, really, I’m fine!” he sobbed, trying to stand. Chief pulled him onto the floor. He laid on Chief’s chest, sobbing quietly.

 


	14. A Sleepy Grey

Susan sighed as she double checked the address. She sighed, going around to the side of the complex to knock on the door. There was the soft clatter of dishes being placed into the sink, followed by shuffling. The door clicked open, the chain across the door.

“Oh, Susan. Hello. I didn’t know you had our address.” Chief shut the door again. Susan looked confused until she heard the scratch of the chain latch being unfastened. Chief opened the door for her and stepped back. He looked half ready for work, wearing plain black pants and a white button-up shirt. The sleeves have been rolled up his arms and the top two buttons were unfastened.

“Smith gave it to me when… Uh, when I was having a bad time a while ago. How is he?”

“… I’m not sure. He’s eating, which is good. But… yeah…” he sighed, going back to the kitchen to continue doing the dishes, “Sorry about the mess.”

Susan glanced around. While it looked like a small child had left their toy guns everywhere, the apartment was fairly clean. It looked like the vacuum had not been put through in a while, and there were a few marks on the stove and bench tops.

“… Is… Smith around?”

“He’s still in bed.”

“It’s nearly 2.”

“He’s been asleep since 5 last night. He’s woken up to eat but that’s about it. I was about to go and try to get him up again.”

Susan nodded. Chief pulled the plug from the sink before taking his gloves off. He headed down to the hall to a small room. Susan followed, peeking in. The room had a set of draws, a built-in closet and enough room for a king-sized bed. Instead, there was a set of bunk beds, with a queen-sized bed on the bottom and a single above it. Despite the bed sheets being a bright rainbow at the end of the bed, the top half was grey. A tuft of curly grey hair stuck out from under the covers.

“Smith, Susan’s here to see you.”

“…I’m sleeping.”

“If you were sleeping, you wouldn’t be able to respond.”

“… I'm sleep-talking.”

Chief rolled his eyes, “Smith, get up. Don’t make me come up there.”

“You _can’t_ get up here Chief. The roof’s too low and you’ll hurt your back.”

“… Fine.” Chief left the room, grabbing one of the toy guns on the way through. Susan raised an eyebrow at him as he took it into the kitchen to fill.

“The best part about Smith leaving all his toys around is they’re easy to access,” he said as he pumped the handle and went back to the bedroom. Susan hid her smile behind her hand, sneaking back to watch the chaos unfold. Chief got up to stand on the edge of his bed, peering over the railing to see Smith.

“Hey, Smith?”

“Wha-AAUGH CHIEF NO STOP!”

Smith sat up and tried to wiggle away from the super soaker, but alas, he was too tall to sit up properly and the bed was too wide for him to wiggle away. Chief ceased fire.

“Are you getting up?”

“…Well, I don’t have a choice, do I?” Smith grumbled as he pulled his soggy blanket up to cover himself.

“No. Go take a shower, you stink.” Chief climbed down, putting the gun in the corner.

“…Susan, do you mind leaving? I sleep in my shorts so…”

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” Susan went back out to the lounge room as Chief began drying the dishes.

“Hot drink Susan?” Chief said, beginning to fill the kettle.

“Yeah, coffee if you have it. With two sugars, if possible.” Chief nodded, getting her a coffee cup.

“CHIEF?”

“Yes, Smith?”

“I CAN’T FIND MY TOWEL.”

“It’s on your hook, Smith.”

“It’s not!”

“Yes, it is, Smith.”

“The only one here is the Maroon one!”

“That’s my towel!”

“I know! I can’t find _my_ towel!”

“Smith, if I come in there and find it at your feet…”

“…”

“Smith?”

“I found it. But I don’t know where my bathrobe is!”

“It’s in the wash, Smith.”

“Where?”

“The wash.”

“Where?”

“The wash!”

“Sorry, where?”

“IN. THE. WASH. SMITH.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t need it anyway, I replaced the heat bulb.”

“The what?”

“The heat bulb!”

“What about it?”

“I replaced it!”

“You replaced it?”

“Yes!”

“That would explain why it’s working, huh Chief?”

“…Yes, Smith, it would.”

Susan smiled gently, listening to them bicker.

\---

Smith sat on the couch with Susan, sipping his hot chocolate. His hair stuck to his forehead, and he looked over all very tired. Chief hummed softly, Smith closing his eyes to listen.

“…How are you feeling Smith?” asked Susan. Chief gave her a stern head shake.

“…Fine.”

“… I see.”

“Why don’t you tell her a story, Smith?”

“Which story? I’ve told her most of them.”

“What about that time you were engaged.”

“No, you haven’t told me that!” Susan said, looking at Smith. He smiled softly.

“…I suppose I can tell you that one.”


	15. A Picture Bride

After my mom died, my grandparents took me and my sister in. Chief hadn’t quite been promoted yet, so I was shadowing him while we investigated a missing person’s case. One night at dinner, my grandpa said he had an announcement.

“Johnathan, I have found you a bride.”

“Oh? But I’m not getting married.”

“Yes, you are. My business partner in China has a daughter of age. He’s prepared to marry her off to you, so that she can get the best start in America.”

Now, of course I found this troubling. Chief already told me about the law against police officers getting married, but my biggest concern was that I didn’t even know this girl. Mom told me to never marry a girl unless I was sure I loved her, and to never mess with a girl’s emotions. How could I know if I love her if I never even met her?

A few weeks later, a photo of her arrived in the mail. She was a pretty, slim lady, with an oval face. I sat with Chief in the office.

“I just don’t know what to do, Chief.”

“I don’t see why you have to marry her anyway. I thought those kinds of arrangements were on the way out.”

“My grandpa is a bit old fashioned… But I do want to help him. I couldn’t afford to feed Amelia without him.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Smith. I wouldn’t personally go through with it.”

The chief came in and told us to get back to work, so we went back to looking for leads on the missing people.

\---

“So, you didn’t even want to marry her?” asked Susan

“To be honest? Not really. But I didn’t want to disappoint anyone either.”

\---

The leads for the missing persons was very slim. All we found was that everyone who was missing was mid-to-light grey, and a mix of adult men and women. Around this time, the ship with Grandpa’s business partner arrived.

“Johnathan, this is your bride, Li Jiao, and her father Li Feng,” My grandfather said, introducing us. Jiao bowed, and I bowed back. It was awkward for everyone.

We were sat together at the table at dinner. She kept perfect posture. It didn’t feel like a joining of families, but a business meeting we were being forced to attend. I tried to make conversation, but she didn’t seem interested in talking.

We weren’t allowed to be alone, in case something went wrong and my grandfather or her father called off the wedding. It made it awful to try and talk with her, but I did manage to get her mostly alone in my grandparents’ living room.

“So, Miss Li.”

“You can call me Jiao. If I am to marry you, it’s only fair, Mr Smith.”

“Oh, well, most people just call me Smith. But you can call me John if you want~”

“… Alright, John.”

“So…” Yeah, this was also very awkward, but I wanted to know _something_ if I was going to marry her. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“I play piano and the Guzheng.”

“Well, I don’t think we have that second thing… Did you bring one with you.”

“…No.”

“Oh… Well, we have a piano. Would you like to play a duet with me?”

“A duet?”

“Yeah, like, I play one end and you play the other.”

“Oh. Very well.”

She sat at one end of the piano and I at the other. We spent a good half an hour trying to find a song we both knew. We eventually played a bunch of children’s songs together. While it was fun, her father was very upset that we had been alone for so long. I excused myself to go to work, apologising to him. It was an awful experience.

I got home after dinner and went up to bed. I knew the wedding was planned to happen in a week, but I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to go through with it. Jiao seemed lovely, but I didn’t know her well enough to say I loved her.

I had barely fallen asleep when I was awoken by a window smash and a scream, coming from Jiao’s room.

 


	16. Kidnappings

Before I even had a chance to go see, I heard a scream from Amelia’s room. I raced in to find a person trying to drag her out the window. Amelia wasn’t going down without a fight. She stomped on his foot and bit his hand. I grabbed the fire-poker and smacked him over the head. He dropped Amelia and went to grab her again. Someone shouted outside. He leapt out to meet them at a car. I held Amelia close. People started coming in. Chief and the chief were called. Chief came and sat next to me as I held Amelia. Jiao was long gone and there was no hint of where they had gone.

“You went to your sister before my daughter, your future wife?!” Li Feng shouted at me. Chief put himself between the two of us.

“Both girls were attacked at the same time. Had Johnathan gone after Jiao, he would have arrived after she was gone, and he would have lost his sister as well.”

“As far as this appears, this is likely to be connected to the other missing women we have. I’ll have my best men working on it,” said the chief.

The best men turned out to be us. Chief and I went back to the drawing board and tried to find a connection between them. All but three of the victims were men, all small in stature and all taken from a place they frequently visited, with the exception of Jiao.

“Could be they were targeting Amelia and found out about Jiao,” Chief said, connecting lines.

“… Has anyone checked the brothels?”

“What?”

“For those missing. They’re mostly women missing…”

“Good idea, Smith,” Chief said, making a note. We went about sending people undercover to see if any of the missing persons were available. Partway through one of the stings, we got a call.

“Amelia has been kidnapped.”


	17. One Dead, Three Still Missing

Losing Amelia really sucked. Scratch that, I was a mess. See, back home they don’t take people who were tied to a crime off investigations. So, we began looking harder. It got to the point that Chief was telling _me_ I had to stop work. Which is a complete opposite of how it usually goes. I had a promise to keep, and I wasn’t about to break that promise.

\---

“What promise was that Smith?”

“I promised my momma I’d always keep her safe.”

\---

We were able to find most of the missing women within a month at local brothels. No two were kept at the same one. As soon as we uncovered half of them, the rest were moved. We only knew this because one of the women who worked there by choice mentioned having seen Jiao. We found her body later that week. The culprit was easy to find, because she wrote his name in her blood. We took him in for questioning. It was the man who ran one of the establishments.

He refused to say anything at all, even when his lawyer came in. We had photos of his name and a possible motive, but he still wouldn’t talk.

\---

Smith faded out. His cheeks were dark, and his eye was focused on the floor.

“What happened?” asked Susan quietly. Smith didn’t respond.

“… Smith scared the shit out of him” said Chief.

\---

“Listen here you low life sack of shit, my baby sister is one of the girls you got, and I’ll be damned if I don’t have her safe in my arms by tomorrow night.”

“I do not hire girls who don’t want to be hi-”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“Maybe we had a girl who looked like your sister. Girls like her are all over the place.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Small waist, long hair, round baby eyes,”

“Sir, I think you should stop talking,” interjected the lawyer.

“I have a thousand girls like that at my disposal.”

“… How do you know what my sister looks like?”

“What?”

“How do you know what my sister looks like? I never described her.”

“Ah, I was… shown a picture.”

“You were shown images of each of the women. How do you know which one she is?”

“My client will make no further comment,” the lawyer interjected.

“Can it, briefcase. How. Do you know. Who my baby sister is?”

The man sat there stunned. It was weird being good cop because that’s usually Smith’s job. But I didn’t really have to do anything. The man sat there like the scuzz ball he was, for once listening to his lawyer and keeping his mouth shut. Smith, at this point, was leaning over him. Keeping in mind that this guy was around 5’4 in the right shoes, Smith was able to lean right over and look him in the eyes. I ended up having to drag him away for him to take a moment out before going back myself.

“Look, I can’t make any deals, because that’s for the judge. But here’s what I’ll do. Play snitch, and I’ll get them to drop the trafficking charges.”

“What about the murder?”

“You mean the one with the girl in the dumpster with 6 knife wounds who wrote your name with her blood?”

“Knife wounds?”

“Pardon?”

“It wasn’t a knife, it wa-”

“A fire poker, yes. Now how did you know that?”

\---

“So, he wasn’t the smartest then?” said Susan. Smith shook his head.

\---

He gave us three good leads. He was charged with the murder and attempting to pervert the course of justice. All the girls except Jiao and Amelia were found, and two of the three men. One of them said that the traffickers were planning to take them out of the country. We only had one day to find them.


	18. ... -- .. - .... .----. ... / .- / -. .. -.-. . .-. / ... .... . .-. .-.. --- -.-. -.-

Smith sighed softly, holding his knees. Chief placed an orange on his head. Smith took the orange, peeling it.

\---

I stayed up most of that night, trying to find any small clue I could. We received a video reel to our doorstep early in the morning. Chief and I didn’t have anything to play it on, so we took it to Mary’s house. Her butler helped us set it up. The start of the film focused on Amelia playing the piano, with Jiao playing a reed flute. It was obvious she had no idea what she was doing, as the melody was simple and non-sensical. A man with a heavy face covering stepped forward with cards.

_You have cost us a fortune_

_If you wish to see your women again_

_Bring us $USD 500_

_Location of Send on Reel_

 

As the man said, they had an address on the reel casing, saying to leave the money on the pier under the masting hold.

“They’ll be close by, but not close enough for us to see them,” Chief said.

“And there’s no guarantee they’ll let the girls go,” said Mary, leaning over the back of the chair with a cigarette in hand. I sat on the floor, re-setting the video and watching it again. Betty sat next to me.

“Whatcha thinkin’ string bean?” she asked.

“Something’s wrong.”

“I know, pup.”

“No, I mean… Amelia… in the video… She’s playing Fur Elise. It’s her speciality.”

“That’s… Nice?”

“…She’s playing it wrong.”

“She’s in a very stressful situation, Smith. She’s probably not too worried about how well she’s playing.”

“… Why would they have her playing anyway?” asked Mary.

“Likely to prove that it’s them. Not many girls around here look like her and can play the piano.”

“Chief, can you pass me some paper? And a pen?” Chief nodded, passing it to me. I reset the video again, quickly writing out the section of Fur Elise that Amelia was playing. I made a little note over every note she changed.

“…Chief, it’s morse code.”

\---

“Clever Amelia,” said Susan. Smith nodded again.

\---

I drew out the dots and dashes.

.---- -..-. ..... ....- / -. . .-- / -... .-. .. -.. --. . / .-.. .- -. . .-.-.- / --. ..- .- .-. -.. ... .-.-.- / -- .- -. / .... . .-. . / - --- --- .-.-.-

 

“We have an address,” said Chief.

“All we need now is a plan,” I said, watching Amelia look into the camera, blinking.

... .- ...- . / ..- ... / .--- --- .... -.


	19. Cracks in the Seam

Jiao’s father took the money down to the pier while Chief and I drove to the address that Amelia gave us. We parked far enough away that no one would be able to discern we were going for the girls. Chief and I snuck around the back. Betty was able to get us access cards, as she used to live in the building. Chief shaved, and I drew on a beard to help disguise ourselves more. Unit 1 had people standing out the front door. They weren’t armed, but they looked like they were someone you would like to avoid. Chief and I went upstairs, going into Betty’s grandfather’s room. He let us out onto the fire exit. We walked down to the floor below, quickly glancing in the window. There were two people playing cards, but otherwise, the three prisoners were unguarded. Chief loaded his gun. I kicked in the window. It wasn’t locked, so I could have just pushed it, but I didn’t really check that. The two men stood, one making like he had a pistol in his pocket. We already saw it was empty, so Chief focused on the man sprinting towards him with a chair as a weapon. He raised the gun, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks. Neither man seemed to know what to do in this situation, calling for the two men out the front. They were armed, and they told us to sit with Amelia and Jiao. We were ordered not to speak. I sat directly next to Amelia. The taller of the two men tied our hands together.

I flexed my arms so he couldn’t tie them properly. The second they left, the other two went back to playing cards. I gently tapped Amelia’s wrist.

.- .-. . / -.-- --- ..- / .... ..- .-. - ..--..

She turned her hand to tap back.

..-. .. -. . .-.-.- / - .... . -.-- / -... .-. --- -.- . / .... . .-. / .... .- -. -.. .-.-.-

She gestured towards Jiao, who had tears rolling down her cheeks. Chief slipped his pocket knife out of his pocket, quietly cutting his ropes. He passed the knife along to me, so I could get my hands free, before cutting Amelia free. The men playing cards didn’t notice as we untied Jiao and the other man. We snuck up behind them, Chief placing the gun to one of their heads, while I held the knife to the other. We quickly tied them, calling for back up as we locked the other two out. Within 20 minutes, we had the four men arrested for questioning. We took Jiao to a doctor, then back home.

\---

“So… what happened?” asked Susan.

“…The men were charged with human trafficking, kidnapping and threatening a police officer. They were a small sector of a local gang. They were killed before their trial…”

“Oh… what about Jiao? Why didn’t you end up marrying her?”

“Oh, right,” Smith said softly.

\---

Jiao was moved to the room between mine and Amelia’s. She came into my room, late one night. I sat up.

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

“….What’s wrong.”

“I don’t love you, Johnathan.”

“…Oh, uh… Yeah.”

“… In America, it is normal to marry without love, yes?”

“No… not really. It used to be, but… It’s mostly died out now. People usually marry people they chose.”

“…Did you want to marry me?”

“…Um… well, don’t take this the wrong way, but… I’m not sure if I ever want to get married. I like being a police officer too much.”

“… I can’t marry you, John. I love someone. I don’t want to be without him, but I must do my duty to my father.”

I watched her as she sobbed. It was really awkward, because I knew that neither of us wanted to get married.

“Who is he?”

“Our page boy. He has been a close friend since we were children.”

“… I think you should marry him.”

She looked at me in shock.

“B-but… What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Father won’t allow me to marry him.”

“…Then do it in secret. Come on.”

I got out of bed, got dressed and sent Jiao to get the man she loved. Then I called Chief.

“Smith, it’s nearly midnight.”

“We both know you weren’t asleep. I need your help. It’s Jiao.”

“She’s missing again?”

“No, but she needs to be. I’ll explain when you get here. Bring the car.

We took Jiao and her page to a small church to be married. While it was rushed, I made sure to get her some flowers.

She sobbed softly.

“Thank you…”

“It’s my pleasure. Want me to walk you down the aisle?”

“Please.”

The actual wedding was small, and only Chief and I witnessed it. The wedding planned between me and Jiao wasn’t going to be large anyway, so it’s not like there was any huge expense lost. We took them to the port, Jiao writing a letter to her father to explain everything. I took the letter as the page boarded the small boat.

“Thank you, again, Johnathan.”

“Please, call me Smith.”

“Smith… you would have made an excellent husband.”

“And you’re going to make an excellent wife. Your husband is waiting.”

\---

“Oh, Smith, that’s so sweet!” said Susan. Smith smiled as he ate the orange.

“He left out the part where he went to wave goodbye, slipped and fell into the water.”

“I didn’t think it was relevant!”

“She also kissed him goodbye.”

“Chiiiiiiiiief!”

Chief laughed softly as he put the last of the dishes away. Smith pouted as he flicked through his photo book, stopping on the image of a Chinese family.

“…This was the last Christmas we had back home. Jiao sent me a Christmas card.” Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Smith?” Susan put a hand on his back. He let out a shaky breath.

“I-I’m fine… I… I just… miss them.”

“…Is that why you’ve been upset, Smith?” Chief asked, sitting across from him. Smith nodded. He rubbed his eyes.

“…I… I miss them… so much.”

“…Would you like to see if we can find that cat to take us back?”

“B-but what about my friends here!” tears rolled down his cheeks as he began blubbering. Chief sat next to him to hold him close.

Fat round tears rolled down his cheeks. He blubbered nonsense as Chief held him close, rubbing his back.

“How can I protect her from here, Chief?”

 


	20. The Devil Runs When Good Men Go To War

Five minutes of sobbing, followed by ten apologising for crying, followed by a father figure gently holding his son and rocking him to sleep. Smith laid in Chief’s lap, softly whimpering in his sleep. Chief sighed as he stroked his hair. Susan sat awkwardly on Chief’s desk chair.

“… He really cares about his sister, huh?”

“Yeah. Pretty much raised her. I was with them when their mother died.”

“Oh god…”

“Yeah. So, that solves that mystery. He misses her, and the people who he used to help. But he doesn’t want to leave the people he knows here.”

“…What are you going to do?”

“… I don’t know. I think the best thing we can do is try and find a way we can travel back and forth between the two realities but…”

“Not likely.”

“Yeah…”

Chief sighed, rubbing Smith’s back. Susan looked at her feet.

“I’m really sorry. I kept bringing it up, and-”

“He likely never stopped thinking about it, it’s more likely to be because it’s nearly Amelia’s birthday and this is the first one he won’t be there for.”

Susan nodded sadly.

“Chief… I don’t want to overstep any boundaries but… Why does he hate Amelia’s husband so much.”

“… He hurt her.”

\---

The relationship was short. He proposed quickly, and they were wed the next July. Smith had a bad vibe about him, but he made Amelia happy. He thought nothing of it, and everything was fine for the first few months.

The first problem was when Amelia said he didn’t need to come around as much now, as she was being taken care of. This set off alarm bells, but Smith couldn’t prove anything.

“John, I’m fine. I promise,” was all she said.

Smith still visited regularly, but one day he went and the house was empty. As in, all the furniture was gone, and there was no sign of anyone. Smith instantly came back and reported it. There was no record of them moving. Smith went to his grandparents, who also didn’t know anything.

We didn’t know what to file it as. There were no signs of struggle, and there was no evidence that there was any foul play. As far as we could tell, they had simply moved without telling him.

Smith knew something wasn’t right, so he kept looking. He eventually found a lead by following the husband’s bank transactions. He had moved her up the coast, outside of our jurisdiction. Smith went up anyway, as there was nothing saying he couldn’t go see his sister. I went with him, as he couldn’t drive and it was a long walk between the train station and where he needed to go. He found her in a small, charming house out by the apple groves. He almost didn’t recognise her. Her once soft, beautiful curls had become a flat, matted mess, thrown back into a ponytail. Her wide, childlike eyes had aged considerably, and lost their sparkle. She walked with her body held in, and her hands shaking. She panicked when she saw us, begging us to leave quickly. Her husband came to the door. He looked clean and presentable. Amelia didn’t look comfortable when he put her arm around her. He pulled her out of the way and slammed the door in our faces.

It wasn’t our jurisdiction, but the locals were no help. The bastard had already paid them off. So, Smith decided to break the law. And, of course, he dragged me into it.

Early the next morning, the husband left for work. We broke in through the kitchen. Amelia freaked. She was scared out of her wits. Smith held her, giving her a hundred reasons to come back. Amelia told us how the bastard had threatened to kill Smith if Amelia tried to run. She kept her head down and did what he said. She had met his previous wife. He had given her a lobotomy after an awful argument.

Smith saw red. I had never seen him that angry before. He told me to get Amelia out of there. Amelia said she couldn’t go. He’d find her and kill her. Smith held her. At that moment, the boy became a man.

We hid Amelia in the attic. Smith kept cooking dinner for her because she was so distressed about how he would be without dinner ready when he got home.

He came in through the back door, moving up the stairs before we got a second to realise he was in. Turns out he had spies watching the house at all times. I pulled my gun out on him, but he bounded around the corner. I followed him, Smith close behind with the fire poker. He grabbed a shotgun, pointing down at us. We tried the normal “come quietly” method, but he knew we didn’t have jurisdiction. He fired once into the roof. Amelia screamed above us. Blood began leaking out of the holes in the roof.

Smith took the moment to tackle the bastard down. He sat on his chest and fired the gun, emptying the other chamber, into the wall. While the bastard was physically stronger, there’s nothing more powerful than a brother’s wrath. He laid fist after fist into his brother in law’s face. I took the opportunity to go see Amelia. The bullet had lodged into her back. I carried her back down the stairs. Smith hadn’t stopped punching him. His face looked like it had been turned inside out with a sledgehammer. I pulled him off. That wasn’t enough. He kept stamping on any part he could reach.

That was the first, and only, time I ever saw Smith get violent. We quickly got Amelia into the car, dumping her husband in the boot. We took both to the hospital. Amelia’s spinal cord had been severed, and she was forced into a wheelchair from then on.

The bastard died of a bullet wound in the head. They never found the culprit.

 


	21. Greyworld

Susan sat shocked.

“He really… really cared about her.”

“I’d say he’d kill for her… though I can’t be sure if he did.”

\---

A short, round woman sighed softly, hanging up the phone.

“Anything of use, pet?” asked a taller, more elegant woman.

“Mary, what if they’re already dead?”

Betty stood up from her desk, marching over to the window.

“Those boys are capable, my dear. We both know that.”

“Why would they disappear like this?” Betty turned to face her partner. Mary’s long coat ended just before her ankles. Her signature wide-brimmed had sat neatly on her head.

“I don’t know. Come on. We have work to do. Smith would be ever so disappointed if he found out we didn’t make sure his errands were run.”

Betty nodded, picking up Mrs Muntz shopping list. Mary took a small pile of books to return to the library for Mr Allen. They both checked the list.

\---

Amelia sat at the window. She sighed, running her hand over the comfortable fabric of her chair. The butler came in.

“Madam Fenton and her guest are waiting for you in the drawing room, ma’am.”

“Thank you, I will be there shortly.”

The first birthday without Johnathan’s special cake. First birthday without her grandmother. First birthday almost completely alone.

But not entirely. She wheeled herself to the drawing room, sighing softly. Mary and Betty had brought her a plain vanilla cake. They had used John’s recipe. She smiled happily, joining them for her celebration. She hummed softly to a song playing on the radio as she ate.

_Where are you, brother?_

_Where will you be?_

_Oh, how will you be?_

_Why won’t you come see me?_


End file.
